


The Blanket Fort Shenanigan

by earlgreytea68



Series: Alter Ego [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M, Shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-26 05:47:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12052584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earlgreytea68/pseuds/earlgreytea68
Summary: There’s a few inches of snow on the ground when Nicholas finally leaves for home, and Boston is in that eerie, snowy hush that accompanies a snowstorm. The plows are out, and the roads are passable, but it’s supposed to snow all night, and most people have long ago burrowed inside. Nicholas takes his time driving but really, the most harrowing part of his drive is his own driveway, which hasn’t been cleared yet and he has to nudge his car over the fresh snow.





	The Blanket Fort Shenanigan

**Author's Note:**

> So, originally, Elliot and Nicholas were supposed to get the first babyfic, I even spent a whole evening naming their kids for them, and then I, like, lost sight of them as a couple and couldn't really figure out how they would even end up with babies, lol. Like, Maxolas was easy to write with babies, the entire foundation of their relationship was how much they wanted kids and a suburban life with a white picket fence, but I had no idea how Elliot and Nicholas would broach the topic of conversation. Although I am steadfast in my belief that Elliot would be a great dad, fun and affectionate and adoring. So I skipped everything about *how* they get the babies. Instead, have a fic where they have them.

“You should come home,” Elliot says, his voice muffled because he’s moving around as he talks, doing a million other things. Elliot never, ever stays still for long enough for a phone conversation. Although Nicholas knows it’s a special nod to his importance in Elliot’s life that he merits a phone call instead of just a text. 

“I’m fine,” Nicholas says. 

“No. You are not fine. There’s a blizzard.” 

“It’s a little snow. It’s hardly a blizzard. Tonight’s my late appointment night, you know that.” 

“People are still going to their appointments? You know no one knows how to fucking drive in the snow,” says Elliot. 

“Do you have kids around you?” Nicholas asks. 

“No, they’re in the other room, I’m—” There’s a bit of a clatter, and then Elliot’s voice gets momentarily clearer as he adjusts the phone. “I’m making hot chocolate. Because there’s a blizzard.”

“It’s not a blizzard. I know how to drive in the snow.” 

“Do you? I haven’t seen evidence of that.” 

“Funny,” says Nicholas, as there’s a knock on his office door. “Hilarious.” 

“I’m going to take my act on the road, as soon as the blizzard’s over.” 

“I have to go. I have appointments. I’ll be home soon.” 

“Tell Daddy he’s missing all the snowstorm fun,” Elliot says on the other end, and Nate and Maeve obediently shout something to him in some kind of cacophony. 

“Wonderful,” Nicholas says, as he opens his door, because he can’t put it off any longer. He holds up a finger to his harried nurse and says, “Have fun, I love all of you, I’ll see you soon.”

“Be very, very careful, d’Artagnan,” says Elliot, his voice the clearest it’s been for the entire phone call. 

“Yeah,” Nicholas says, turning away so the nurse won’t see his sappy smile. “I will be.” 

***

There’s a few inches of snow on the ground when Nicholas finally leaves for home, and Boston is in that eerie, snowy hush that accompanies a snowstorm. The plows are out, and the roads are passable, but it’s supposed to snow all night, and most people have long ago burrowed inside. Nicholas takes his time driving but really, the most harrowing part of his drive is his own driveway, which hasn’t been cleared yet and he has to nudge his car over the fresh snow. 

No shoveling has happened yet, and Nicholas’s shoes are drenched by the time he gets to the front door, which he swings open to reveal acres and acres of blankets where his living room used to be. Karl Barx and Schemer come to greet him with the attendant noise of eager, happy dogs. 

Elliot’s head pokes out from underneath one of the blankets. “Shh,” he says to the dogs, and then, “Hi,” keeping his voice soft, which must mean the kids are sleeping. 

“Hi. What’s all this?” Nicholas asks, toeing his shoes off and shrugging out of his overcoat and trying to pet the dogs enough to appease them, all at the same time. 

“Blanket fort. The kids were bored.”

“The kids were bored? Or you were bored?” Nicholas drops to his hands and knees to crawl into the blanket fort with Elliot. It’s enormous and cozy and Nate and Maeve are curled up sound asleep with a laptop in front of them and Ian Purrtis between them. 

“We watched _Frozen_ ,” Elliot says. “They tried to wait up for you. Popcorn?” Elliot retrieves the bowl of it from next to the kids and offers it to Nicholas. 

Nicholas takes a handful and says, “Late night appointments. And I was very, very slow coming home so I would get here in one piece.”

“Mmm, which I appreciate, thank you,” says Elliot, and leans forward to kiss his cheek. 

Nicholas tips his head for a real kiss, which Elliot obliges. 

“You know,” he says against Elliot’s lips, “if you were bored, you could have shoveled the walkway.” 

Elliot laughs and kisses Nicholas again and says, “What kind of shenanigan would that be? That’s a terrible shenanigan. Blanket fort is way better.” 

“I didn’t even know we had this many blankets.” 

“I’ve been saving them up,” Elliot says. “You know I am never unprepared when it comes to a good shenanigan.” 

“I have heard that about you, yes. These are very pretty blankets.”

“I also have a thing for a good aesthetic, you may have heard that about me, too.” 

“Vaguely. What have you been up to?” 

Elliot smiles at him, and then settles against him. He feels happy and snug and familiar there. He says, holding up his phone negligently, “Working.”

“How’d you knock the kiddos out?” 

“Laced the hot chocolate with Benadryl.” 

Nicholas laughs and takes another handful of popcorn. 

“And a bit of arsenic in the popcorn,” continues Elliot. 

Nicholas laughs again. 

“No, we had a snowball fight when they got home from school. And did snow angels and stuff. The dogs played in the snow with us and then they were a huge mess so we had to clean the dogs up when we got back in. And then we made the blanket fort. We’ve been busy. I exhausted them.” 

“You have that effect on people. I sympathize with them.”

“Oh, whose turn is it to be hilarious now? I promised the kids we’d sleep in the fort with them.” 

They are way too old to be sleeping on hardwood floors and they’re going to wake up with backaches in the morning but Nicholas already has his eyes closed, head tipped back against the couch behind them. “Mmm. Fine.” 

“I also promised them you’d burn some Eggos for them in the morning.” 

Nicholas yawns. “You are already assuming school’s canceled tomorrow?”

“School _is_ canceled tomorrow. See? I am the responsible parent.”

“Who’s been hanging out on the Internet all night. You’re also assuming I’m not going to work tomorrow?” 

“Well, we could fight about this in the morning _or_ you could just agree with me now and then tomorrow morning we can have a fabulous lie-in and make Eggos in our pajamas and snuggle in our blanket fort all day.” 

“Well, I know something you don’t know.” 

“What’s that?”

“Hang on, let me savor this moment.” 

“Fuck you,” Elliot says good-naturedly. 

“I so seldom have more information than you.”

“That’s not true. You always have more biological information than I do.”

“Yes, but so seldom do you ask me to name for you the bones of the hand.”

“It’d be hot if you did.”

“Would it? I’ll try it later. Anyway, want to know my secret?” 

Elliot laughs suddenly, surprising Nicholas, and also surprises Nicholas by leaning him and giving him a kiss, different in tone than the greeting kisses they’d exchanged before, more deeply fond, and somehow a younger kiss, an earlier-in-their-relationship kiss. Nicholas feels like he could carbon-date the evolution in Elliot’s kisses, and Elliot employs an arsenal of them depending on the peculiarities of his mercurial moods at any given second, and this is one Nicholas hasn’t had for a while. He says, his voice low and his smile dark, “I know all of your secrets.” 

“Do you think so?” asks Nicholas, amused and also smitten by this version of Elliot. 

Elliot grins, smug, and shifts to straddle Nicholas’s lap. “All the good ones.” 

“I can’t argue with that.” 

“Emerson James,” Elliot says, curling his fingers into Nicholas’s damp hair and then kissing his jaw, his lips still curved into a smile.

Nicholas chuckles. “Listen up, Richelieu.” 

“Oh, I am listening very hard, can’t you tell?” 

“I already canceled all my appointments tomorrow.” 

Elliot stops kissing him to lift his head up and beam down at him. “That was a good secret.” 

“I thought you’d like it.” 

“You should eat something. You didn’t have dinner. I ordered you a pad Thai, it’s in the fridge.” Elliot says it but he says it between kisses that he keeps deepening, distracting nips with his teeth and swipes with his tongue. 

“In a minute,” Nicholas mumbles around the kisses. “It’s nice—here. Cozy.” 

“Nice,” Elliot repeats into Nicholas’s mouth, getting his hands under Nicholas’s sweater to splay across his chest. “Cozy. Not what I was going for.” 

“I can tell,” remarks Nicholas, as Elliot grinds down against him. Elliot’s kisses falter momentarily into a grin before resuming. Nicholas manages, “I was talking about your blanket fort.”

“Yeah? Do you like my blanket fort?” 

“It’s growing on me.” 

“Does that mean we can keep the blanket fort forever and ever?” 

Nicholas chuckles. “We can negotiate.” 

“Negotiations,” says Elliot. “You know I love when you say we’re going to negotiate.” 

“Because I always let you win?” asks Nicholas drily. 

“You don’t _let_ me win,” Elliot retorts sulkily. “I win fair and square. I’m just more persuasive. Let me prove it. Let me take you upstairs and wake you up a bit.” 

“Oh, is that what we’re calling it now?” 

“Come upstairs, we’ll pull the covers over our heads, it’ll be the X-rated version of the blanket fort, I’ll check that you’re in working order and all your extremities are warm enough.” 

“Stop. I get the idea. I get every idea.” 

Elliot laughs and then crawls out of the blanket fort, passing Shenanigan on her way in. 

Nicholas glances at the kids and then looks at Shenanigan and says, “Keep an eye on them. We’ll be right back.” 

“Well, not _right_ back,” Elliot calls softly from the staircase he’s already ascending. He has the dogs trailing up behind him, and Jane Pawsten and Tumble are circling through his legs, because Elliot, no matter where he goes, is surrounded by adoring creatures fighting over who can get closest to him, and often these days Nicholas cedes the space, to the coterie of animals sometimes but more often to the kids, who always seem to be hanging off of Elliot, and who Elliot, with those absent touches he’s grown into, is always pulling in for hugs and snuggles. Nicholas doesn’t kid himself: he is beloved in this house and he knows it, but Elliot is the one who’s home all the time, Elliot is the one who runs things, Elliot is the one organizing the snowball fights and putting up the blanket forts. 

But Elliot is still, always, also the one who turns toward him and into him when he gets home like he’s been waiting all day for him. Nicholas cedes the space around Elliot to others because Nicholas always knows that Elliot is holding space open for him, waiting, wanting. Elliot has been holding that space open since the day they met; Nicholas used to be very careful and conscious about filling it and now Nicholas just fills it because it’s home and he waits all day for it, too. 

Elliot pauses on the stairs, right before he would disappear into the darkness of the second floor, looking quizzically at Nicholas, still mostly in the blanket fort, awkwardly on his hands and knees. “What?” he says. 

“Ask me,” says Nicholas. 

Elliot grins and leans on the banister, heedless of the animals all around him. “Fuck marry kill Richelieu.” 

“All of the above,” says Nicholas, which is usually how he answers these days. 

Elliot laughs and resumes walking up the stairs, calling back down, as he drifts out of sight, “Come on, come on, come on, love’s the greatest thing.”


End file.
